Just Exist
by CatrienStardust
Summary: Eclare' Hints of Adam/Alli; "The day after the dance, we drive away." It's actually not totally depressing, I swear.


Sometimes, there's nothing else you can do but just exist.

When the pain's too much and it hurts to think, when nothing else can really drown out the shouts of your mind, you have to get away. Just forget about the world, forget, and just exist.

The day after the dance, we drive away.

If you're confused to why, obviously you didn't read what I said two paragraphs above.

The windows are down and the music's turned up, and somehow, the four of us here together aren't really together- we're in the car but facing different ways, each face set with a different emotion, thinking their own thoughts, savoring the uncomplicated silence, accepting that nothing's ever going to be the same again. A square- except we don't quite connect the corners. (Except for maybe _them_, but they're always connected, aren't they?)

_Love_- She's always looking the same way. Soft, elegant, motherly, except there's nothing motherly about the way she looks at _him_- lips bit and cheeks blushed.

_Pain_- It's not like I know the details, but she's broken, probably moreso then all of us. She's not wearing makeup, and is clothed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats. You take one look at her and just wonder why- only she won't look back, won't look forward, just off to the side. The window claims her full attention, and hell, maybe its better like that.

_Longing_- One glance at _her_ and the glassy look envelopes his eyes again. Yeah, he wants her. _Bad_.

_Impassiveness_- That's me. My role in this? I'm the storyteller, right? I have no beef- I'm just here for the ride.

Last night was a whirl-wind, for all of us, so when he suggested to her thaw we just get away, she agreed. I was dragged into this- being the respective "best friend," and I'm sure that's why she- (the torn up one) is here too.

The sky's overcast when he parks the hearse, we're far away, by some coast. Silently, without even recognizing what we're doing, we all pile out of the car, onto sand. The beach is sullen- empty and wild; untamed. It's natural, beautiful, with angry, grey waves collapsing against the shore.

I imagine us as those waves. Giving up right as we find stability. We're like that.

We don't talk, just take off. The broken one runs, maybe to escape us, or maybe herself. We're not worried- she'll be back, she just needs to get away.

The other two stand awkwardly, she blushes and rakes a hand through her untidy curls. These two could write a book with their unspoken words, but right now, they just really need to get it down on paper. He looks at me, apologetic, expectant, and I get it.

I trudge my way through the bits of broken off rock. How can so many fragments make up something this durable, yet this eroded? I feel like everything is connected, symbolic, yet nothing makes sense.

Having nothing better to do, I plop down, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

"Clare. I'm sorry, I'm not good at saying stuff like that, or this, really. I took it too far, that's my problem, I'll always take it too far." That's true, I think. He's unrelenting, never learns his lesson. My eyes dart to the waves. Kind of like that. "But Clare... I... I really, really, f-feel for you." I can imagine his eyes squeezed shut, hand wound through hair.

"Clare. I love you."

There's nothing but the waves crashing against the beach. I wonder where she is- the broken girl who ran, and I hope she's okay. It's a shame she's wasting this.

"Wh-What did you say?"

"Damnit, Clare. It was hard enough the first time. I l-l-lo-love you. And I can't let you go."

He's desperate. But he needs her. We all do, because in this fucked up square, she's the closest, sanest thing we have to stability, to normality.

"Eli." She breathes.

And that's how it starts.

Later, we all watch the stars. There's so many, like a spray painting of silver across the sky. She's laying with her head on his chest, his back to a towel. They're murmuring softly, floating in between a conversation, private, and one with I. The broken girl's head is on my shoulder, and I don't think she even realizes it's me, she's somehow far away. I put an arm around her. I'll be something for her to lean on, if just for tonight.

We're the sidekicks, and tonight, we both hurt.

For a second, I wonder the time. I probably need to be home, we all do. I can imagine our parents, panicking, overreacting.

But here? Now? With their lips, dancing together, a mismatched collage of black and pink, of good and bad, Romeo and Juliet? With me, holding together this broken girl with one arm, holing her close, controlling her heartbeat?

I think getting home is the last thing on our minds. It's not a matter of should and shouldn't. Because in the end...

Sometimes, there's nothing you can do but just exist.

**This sounded better in my head. I hope it isn't depressing, I meant it to be happy. Kudos if you can recognize all the characters.**


End file.
